tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48759148199486577382024-03-13T06:00:09.299-05:00Little Baby MonstersMichelle Pierson and My Monster Motley Crewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14101537586852163939noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4875914819948657738.post-28527593474037816292012-11-02T13:52:00.001-05:002012-11-02T13:52:31.932-05:00T-Shirt Monstrosities: Calavera Creation<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W26bLhEBOsM/UJQTwSioPdI/AAAAAAAAAXI/NDcSSgdqDRA/s1600/IMG_1196.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W26bLhEBOsM/UJQTwSioPdI/AAAAAAAAAXI/NDcSSgdqDRA/s640/IMG_1196.JPG" width="484" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">La Calavera Catrina - This is a clay statuette representing J.G. Posada's <i>La Catrina</i> </td></tr>
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Today, November 2, is All Souls Day. A day to remember and reflect on our dearly departed. In a former life, let's say about 11 years ago, a young, unmarried Spanish teacher took her students to Mexico. And, as a Spanish teacher is wont to do, she bought some stuff. Some books, some decor for the classroom. But she fell in love with a t-shirt. It was a really nice t-shirt, only it was too big. A men's medium that made her look like a kid wearing a paint shirt to art class. But... it was a really great t-shirt, so she bought it anyway. And she's kept it. She wears it, sometimes with a flashy belt and leggings each November 2nd, especially those November 2nds that saw her in front of a classroom full of eager-to-learn students. It was a vehicle to teach about José Guadalupe Posada, a Mexican print artist and satirist. Well. This gem has been in the drawer for 11 years and this year, she decided to make some changes. She decided she'd wear it more often if it fit better. It was time for a hack job.<br />
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The interweb is filled...no, really...FILLED with ideas to repurpose, alter, upcycle your old t-shirts. I spent some time this morning looking some ideas up and settled on one that would make my t-shirt more form-fitting. Here's what I did:<br />
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I watched this YouTube video. It's lengthy, but provided a good jump-off point. <br />
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7NqsaCcsv7U">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7NqsaCcsv7U</a><br />
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Then, I put on the shirt for one last 'whole' picture (see? Too big!):<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7NbOdHjVJLQ/UJQUHEFDVtI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/8gT5vTJ9efQ/s1600/IMG_1175.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7NbOdHjVJLQ/UJQUHEFDVtI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/8gT5vTJ9efQ/s400/IMG_1175.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's J.G. Posada's <i>El Catrín</i> and <i>La Catrina</i></td></tr>
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Then I got to work:<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0gibJZiaFP8/UJQUYpAfnzI/AAAAAAAAAXY/vVRJvrWeKyQ/s1600/IMG_1178.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="317" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0gibJZiaFP8/UJQUYpAfnzI/AAAAAAAAAXY/vVRJvrWeKyQ/s400/IMG_1178.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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I trimmed the bottom seem, cut off the sleeves just inside the seam, and squared off the neck opening.<br />
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Then, folding the shirt to enable cutting strips in just the back, I cut the back into about 1 inch strips.<br />
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Then, you stretch out each cut, effectively stretching and rolling each strip of jersey.<br />
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Then, I took the second strip, put it under the first and then over it, drop the first and use it to pick up the third row. This 'weaves' the fabric. I did this process three times and then clipped the bottom row, and tied off the loose strings to knot and secure the weaving. <br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tsAVLJH7z_w/UJQUn7nSmhI/AAAAAAAAAX8/oYKuEfgydFY/s1600/IMG_1185.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="382" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tsAVLJH7z_w/UJQUn7nSmhI/AAAAAAAAAX8/oYKuEfgydFY/s400/IMG_1185.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Using a little strip of fabric from the sleeves, I stretched and rolled that and tied it around the sleeves of the new 'tank' for some visual interest! <br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QhZs78JjA3Y/UJQUxXOB5jI/AAAAAAAAAYU/-io3BL1gjHg/s1600/IMG_1193.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QhZs78JjA3Y/UJQUxXOB5jI/AAAAAAAAAYU/-io3BL1gjHg/s400/IMG_1193.JPG" width="365" /></a></div>
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Voilá! Now I have a Día de los Muertos tank that I can layer up and show off my adoration of J.G. Posada more often! I need to tweek the back neck line a bit and I did end up tying off the other shoulder as well! Fun project!<br />
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Here are some links to Wikipedia pages if you are looking for more information on this really interesting and fun holiday as celebrated in Mexico!<br />
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A page about <i>La Calavera Catrina</i>:<br />
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<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/La_Calavera_Catrina">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/La_Calavera_Catrina</a><br />
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A page about <i>José Guadalupe Posada</i>:<br />
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<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jos%C3%A9_Guadalupe_Posada">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jos%C3%A9_Guadalupe_Posada</a><br />
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A page about <i>Día de los Muertos</i>:<br />
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<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Day_of_the_Dead">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Day_of_the_Dead</a><br />
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<br />Michelle Pierson and My Monster Motley Crewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14101537586852163939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4875914819948657738.post-79823984121669140902012-05-20T15:07:00.000-05:002012-05-21T07:55:59.165-05:00the COOP scoop Rome wasn't built in a day. Nor was our chicken coop. But...it's now
done! And a project like this one deserves a chapter in the family
history book. Or blog. So. Here goes it!<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Coop Chronicles</b></span></div>
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If you read my last entry, you know that we had some disappointed ladies in the house after our mishap with assuming the farm supply store would have chicks the day before Easter. That darn 'assume' addage--when will I learn?<br />
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A week or so after Easter, we did indeed, bring home our first batch o' chicks! The were fuzzy. They peep-peeped all the way home. I seat-belted them in (in a box, silly) in the passenger seat and turned the seat warmer on for them. The girls and I so enjoyed their musical chorus we turned off the radio and listened to our acapella lady quartet.<br />
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Chad and I are fortunate to have backyard chicken farmers in our circle of friends, and their input in addition to a lot of reading on the internet and a few books, made us feel ready to take the plunge into egg-laying plumage. We found the book <b><i>City Chicks</i></b> written by Patricia Foreman to be a very good resource. We formatted a lot of our coop/chicken run/ and brooding box design with the recommendations from this book. We also researched our city's chicken keeping codes and applied for a license. Here's the proof:<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rlfrWzWJHk8/T7lM5_PRjcI/AAAAAAAAASk/JcJjMJWV8MI/s1600/chicken+license.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rlfrWzWJHk8/T7lM5_PRjcI/AAAAAAAAASk/JcJjMJWV8MI/s400/chicken+license.jpg" width="400" /> </a> </div>
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Here is a link to the page where you can find the permit application: </div>
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<a href="http://www.duluthmn.gov/clerk/permits/chickens.cfm">http://www.duluthmn.gov/clerk/permits/chickens.cfm</a></div>
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Here's a picture of the brooding box and our day-old Aruacana/Americana Chicks. <br />
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We included a sand-box for grit and sand bathing. A chick feeder and a rock lined water feeder. We had a red heat lamp keeping the temperature for our fragile little ladies a toasty 95-98degrees. We also built a training roost for them. Here are a few pictures of the girls and our other little girls:<br />
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Zoe with Spot, Charlotte with Chickie, and Mauren with Cutie</div>
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A week later we added a couple Buff-Orpingtons to our micro flock. This is Buffy, The Buff Orpington Vampire Slayer meeting week-old Cutie.</div>
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Buffy's sidekick, Willow, stretching her lil' neck!</div>
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Two week old Americana chicks and One week old Buffs--feathering out nicely!</div>
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And while the chicks ate, drank and pooped merrily, they grew. And grew. And their permanent home grew as well! </div>
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It all started with one of the first purchases Chad and I made. We bought a house. Then a couch. Then an armoire. Hey, it was 2001 and everyone had one. Plus we had a mammoth TV set with a smallish screen, a record player, a stereo and a cd burner. And a Play-Station. Face it, we were kids. What did we know? Anyway, it worked well for us at the time. Eventually, as technology got smaller and smaller and there wasn't time for after-bar dance parties and video games, we transitioned our entertainment armoire to be our 'craft cupboard'. It worked well for that, too, but it dominated our smallish dining room. So. Chad's big idea to raise backyard chicks in addition to the indoor variety inspired my taking a second look at the armoire--and seeing a barn in it. We determined it would work for our plans if we insulated it, ran electricity into it to provide lighting and a heat lamp, found a space for laying boxes, and roosts--and the rest is history! Here's the make-over process:</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jyt2mtQpLp4/T7k_2OutySI/AAAAAAAAAOk/elsJbE0KFrQ/s1600/ArmoirePine2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jyt2mtQpLp4/T7k_2OutySI/AAAAAAAAAOk/elsJbE0KFrQ/s400/ArmoirePine2.jpg" width="338" /></a></div>
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1. We started with our Pine entertainment cupboard. </div>
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2. Chad added insulation, and then sheathed it with plywood he rescued from a pallet in a construction dumpster (with permission) so that the chickens won't peck the insulation. </div>
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3. Helpers helped. Kinda.</div>
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4. Chad took out the drawers, sawed the fronts off and made a false front to keep the appearance of drawers. He cut a pop hole near the bottom right, and a ramp. He cut a hole in the 'floor' of the top portion and built a ramp and a ladder to get the hens from the bottom to the top. He had a piece of plexiglass cut to size and framed up a small window to give the hens natural lighting and fitted that. He also installed vents. He added weather stripping along all the doors, and secure latches. </div>
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5. Then Chad primed the whole structure. Very evenly. And then someone let me near the paint bucket. We found 'barn red' paint at Menards. Nice color, but this girl should NOT be permitted within 50 feet of a paint pail. Someone may have to apply for a restraining order. The result was very, very, VERY bad. Good thing this is a chicken coop and chickens don't seem to mind runs in their paint jobs! Not to worry, from a distance, it looks okay. And later, when the gobbed on paint dries appropriately enough, we can sand it down and Chad can fix my mistakes!<br />
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6. Chad, with help from our brother-in-law Phil and his dad Mike, set in posts for fencing in the chicken run. Chad built a gate using a 'gate kit' from Menards. We used green rectangular garden fencing lined with traditional chicken wire to fence in the structure. Chad dug the fencing in to prevent resident foxes and raccoons too easy of a 'dig' job to enter the run. I added the white picket 'fencing' as whimsy. Chad built a hinged cover over most of the run so we can lift it up to muck out the run. He used corrugated rubber/asphalt sheet roofing to give the roof of the coop more rain protection and used the same material to make a portion of the run covered to provide protection from sun and rain. We also put eye hooks in the underside of the garage roof to attach roping that will go through the coop to enable the hops we have growing in that location a place to climb. We added some drift wood and an old 'garden table' to provide some places to roost in the run, as well.<br />
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7. After mounting the coop to the garage to ensure stability in windy conditions, Chad's next challenge was fencing around the pop-hole. He built a guillotine style door on a pulley to open/close the pop-hole door. Addy is very intrigued by the chicks. They are in the run keeping Chad company in this picture!<br />
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8. Here's the view of the ramp, and pop-hole door from inside the run. </div>
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9. Inside of the roosting area.</div>
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10. Ladder from lower level ramp to the roosts.</div>
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11. The lower level pop-hole, ramp to 'upstairs' and the two laying boxes, lined with faux-grass liners. We've also included some wooden eggs that we have been told will tell our girls where to lay and if they peck at them out of curiosity they will find it isn't tasty and potentially prevent egg-eating. </div>
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12. Their feathers only look ruffled. This is their awkward teenage stage! They like their new digs!</div>
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13. Ta-Da! Farmer Chad and part of his brood. He was so worried about the girls on their first night outside (5/18/2012)! He had to usher the girls into their new home. The next night, they<br />
went in on their own, though! </div>
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We're looking forward to egg hunts in our near future! Bock-buck!<br />
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And here's a little monster-themed chicken performance to round things out:<br />
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jd8nfEdo59I">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jd8nfEdo59I</a></div>Michelle Pierson and My Monster Motley Crewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14101537586852163939noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4875914819948657738.post-52791588146803296952012-04-09T21:36:00.010-05:002012-04-10T00:27:01.139-05:00Confessions of an (im)Perfect Mom...<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0ChQ5Idw1Mg/T4PCRCNc3II/AAAAAAAAAKg/kTnLkDaOX_Y/s1600/IMG_1043.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0ChQ5Idw1Mg/T4PCRCNc3II/AAAAAAAAAKg/kTnLkDaOX_Y/s400/IMG_1043.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729636748852255874" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tbsdjjcYChs/T4PBRQNlzYI/AAAAAAAAAJY/scHneL8ZgDA/s1600/IMG_0995.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h5j8G4hwiBM/T4PAHJLcCWI/AAAAAAAAAJM/MgtDB_5cGxk/s1600/IMG_0994.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:180%;">...The Easter 2012 Edition</span></b></i><div><br /></div><div>You're reading my blog? Whoa. I had a story rolling around in my noggin and then some little dendrite kicked me in the frontal lobe saying, "You have a blog, dummy. Use it." Okay, dendrite, relax. You win. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;"><i><b>Visions of Sugar Bunnies, Baby Chicks and Lamb(chops) Danced...</b></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">In my role as Mama Monster I see all levels of greasy, grime and goo. But one has no idea of how much of that you blindly live with until you are about to host your first family holiday event. And <i>that</i> just kind of happened. We decided we were taking our zoo of a family to the next level by introducing baby chicks to our current brood. We've been hatching plans for a while. We checked out a lot of books. We bought some books. We took notes. We built a coop and a chicken run in production. And we have a baby chick brooding box in post-production. With chicks bouncing around, we thought it best to celebrate Easter in Duluth this year. We've long been transplants in the most beautiful city in our state. (Oh yeah. I said it. I mean it, too!) That means as calendar pages turn, holidays see us packing our bags and making the rounds. Not content with this idea, the Piersons decided to come to us! What a treat! Grandma and Grandpa, Auntie Suz, Uncle Phil and Baby Jack are some of our little monsters' most favoritist people on the planet. I cannot fault them for this assessment. They are pretty grand. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">Now, at 35 years of age, I finally know the second looks a hostess gives the baseboards, cupboard fronts, fridge shelves, finger smudges(nose smudges, licking marks? Ew.) on every window (every single one!), grimy door jams, ceiling fan blades, that gross spot behind the base of the toilet...need I go on? There was more. So, spring cleaning was a little more in earnest this year. Cool air returns were thoroughly dusted, not that my in-laws would likely notice. And living in a house with three kids and a shedding dog meant two steps forward, eight back. Seriously. But. As it always does, it worked out just fine. Chad and I meal planned. We hoped to find some yummy lamb for Easter dinner but settled on prime rib. It was prime indeed! We spent fun hours together--crafting, cooking, working on the chicken coop, dyeing eggs, swimming in the hotel pool, eating, more swimming and more eating. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">And I'd like to touch on some of the wins and fails of my holiday weekend. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:180%;"><i>Wins Column:</i></span></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">**Mauren and Zoe spent a night of slumber partying with Grandma and Grandpa at the hotel. They did this Saturday night and the Easter Bunny even knew they were there and hid some eggs in the hotel room for them! And it was brilliant to have them arrive home to scurry around finding their Easter Baskets and eggs. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">**Zoe would spend every waking minute 'making crafts' if I let her. We wouldn't have room to live with all of her creations if I do, so I limit it to once or twice or thrice per day. But she spent an hour or longer working on an Easter tree with Grandma Reenie that became our centerpiece. It was lovely. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">**I changed multiple infant boy diapers without getting peed on. Success. And snuggles with a beautiful, smiling, cooing, thumb-twiddling baby boy? Priceless.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">**Chad was chef extraordinaire serving up a fish fry with 'caught the previous day crappies' courtesy of Grandpa Mike, Brined turkey breast smoked on the Weber (Yum. My fave!), Pasta Carbonara with pancetta from Northern Waters Smokhaus (Unreal. Really.), and a smoked Prime Rib Roast for Easter. Mary's little lamb was unharmed (this year) for our Easter meal. With most meals Chad served up some of his favorite beers, some of which were his own. Give a geeky boy a chemistry project that involves finding specific gravity, high temperatures and the end result is beer? Chad loves his new hobby!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">**Auntie Suzy helped the Easter bunny out with some tips that some big girls needed ballet slippers in their Easter baskets. Legwarmers, too. The ballerinas have been very busy ever since. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">**Charlotte is speaking in near full sentences. She is working on pronouns and mixes her prepositions, but she is getting it. Some of her fave sentences this weekend included:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><i>--I hold her? I hold Baby Yak.</i> (J sounds are awfully difficult and in her defence, she is around a large number of girls in her daily life.)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><i>--Mama? More candy? Please? More beans? Jelly beans? Please? Me eating? </i>(These requests were made with signs for 'more', 'please' and 'eat' just to make sure we understood. Valiant effort was made. Some caving resulted. Her six teeth, well-brushed.)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">**Grandpa Mike didn't know what to do with a day of the girls crafting while Chad had to work. I guess hot glue guns don't appeal to him, much. He took his dog for a walk. After he drove to Two Harbors and checked out the fishing in the McQuade Harbor, walked the lake, and saw the first 'Saltie' of the year closing in on our fair port city. And he brought back smoked fish from Lou's. A win! All around!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">**Phil and Suzy are parents now. Good ones. A little tired, but glamourously tired all the same. And being new parents hasn't put a dent in their awesome Aunt/Uncle personas. Each of the girls loved every moment, every snuggle. Having our siblings love our kids so powerfully? It's fundamentally ________ (<--- I just don't have the right adjective to put there, but my feelings are powerful on the subject!). </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">There were SO MANY wins this weekend. Do I need to twist the dagger in my heart as to the fails? Well. Sure. Fails at the time are heartbreaking. When I next read this, they will likely make me laugh (some already do!)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:180%;">Fails Column:</span></i></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">**After washing all the windows on Thursday morning, I take another look at the windows upstairs Thursday afternoon. They are streaky. They are covered in finger prints. Mauren and Zoe say, "Mom, we thought we'd get the windows extra clean so we used a washcloth and the foaming bathroom soap and cleaned them all again for you." I have to appreciate the gesture, right?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">**After months of planning, building, buying stuff, finding out when chicks start being available at the farm supply store in Cloquet, reading, watching YouTube videos on chick care with the girls, one would ALMOST think that Chad and I would have been smart enough to pre-order baby chicks to be ready the Saturday before Easter. Almost. I did think of it. Five miles north of Cloquet. After all ten of us were loaded up in two vehicles to make the grand purchase of our lil' baby chicks. The ladies. We entered the farm room, saw all the galvanized steel troughs, see the warming lights beckoning us with their rosy glow. Oh no. No peeping. Worse. No chicks. Crying ensues. Orders are made. Fingers are crossed there will be more ladies in the house on Thursday. EPIC, STUPID, IRRESPONSIBLE, REVOLTING, IDIOTIC FAAAAIIILLLL! AAaaCCkk!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">**Not a true fail, but a funny one. On Friday, the girls and I went swimming at the hotel with Grandma Reenie. Washing the pool residue from their little bodies in the hotel room afterwards, a large tub with a view of the television equipped with something magical called Nickolodean, Mauren tells me, "This kind of tv with commercials?" Yeah?, I respond. "I like these commercials. They give me ideas for things to want." Advertisers out there? She is on to you...but, I guess what you do? It works! Fur Reals. No. Really. She wants something called a FurrReal. A bunny that hops around. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">**Last night as we were getting ready for bed, Zoe reveals the underbelly side of a slumber party with Grandma and Grandpa. Sorry elders, this is an outing. It is noisy...Grandma snores a little, but Grandpa SNORES SO LOUDLY!!! </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">**It wasn't all moonbeams and lullabies for the Grandparents either, this slumber party thing. Turns out, Zoe is an octopus. Grandma saw them both sitting bolt upright at one point in the night. The girls? No recollection of such event. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">**That very night, Charlotte woke up with a night terror. Screaming in her high-pitched angry voice, "No! Zoe, NOOOOOO!" She got over it, though. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">**Charlotte, at a loss as to where her sisters may be on Easter morning, requested Ra-Ra Noodle Soup (Ra Ra noodle poop, as she calls it) for breakfast. Ramen for breakfast? Well. Auntie Bek may approve. And. It's a holiday. Okay. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">**And the last FAIL of the weekend? Didn't happen on the weekend. It happened today. I went in to the YMCA to burn some of the very, very numerous Easter calories I ingested over the weekend. I dropped off the girls in the Kids Club (that part is a win!), worked out, felt good, reveled in the endless supply of hot water shower afterwards and picked up the girls. Mauren and Zoe were bursting with angst. Indignation. Scorn. Disbelief. Anger. Injustice. Words spilled from their mouths before crossing the gated threshold between the 'kids' area and the 'parents' area. A boy told them that the Easter Bunny wasn't real. That the magical bunny who loves them and brings them candy and Zhu Zhu pets, kites, bubbles and ballet slippers is 'make believe'. Eyes are teary. Kids Club attendants quickly butt in and say, "That boy was lying. He was being mean. And it isn't true. And we talked to him." And I said, not everyone believes the same things. We get to choose what we believe in. Who we believe in. And I believe in you. And you know what? Boys who don't believe in the Easter Bunny? Well. The Easter Bunny has no time for kids like that. Those kids don't get a visit from the Easter Bunny. Isn't that sad? Isn't that terrible? They agreed. And listed the things they believe in. You know. Fairies. Mermaids. Santa. The Easter Bunny. Not aliens. They're extinct, mom. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">And that's it. It, you say? This is a dissertation. A thome. But, at the end of things? The wins, the losses? It's a wash. Just the way I like. It's okay to win some. And lose some. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-size:16px;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h5j8G4hwiBM/T4PAHJLcCWI/AAAAAAAAAJM/MgtDB_5cGxk/s320/IMG_0994.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729634379900914018" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-size:85%;" >The Easter Tree Zoe, Maurnie & Grandma made with paper flowers and sticks!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-size:85%;" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-size:85%;" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-size:16px;"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tbsdjjcYChs/T4PBRQNlzYI/AAAAAAAAAJY/scHneL8ZgDA/s320/IMG_0995.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729635653099310466" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">A close-up of the spiral flowers.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:16px;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--O8OJAqDKwA/T4PBRvd9BYI/AAAAAAAAAJg/gxxKrKwyqoY/s1600/IMG_0962.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--O8OJAqDKwA/T4PBRvd9BYI/AAAAAAAAAJg/gxxKrKwyqoY/s320/IMG_0962.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729635661489440130" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /></a></span></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><u>We're brooding. Becuase our brooding box is empty. Hopefully not for long!</u></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><u><br /></u></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7mZKiDlbYeQ/T4PBRx1hdTI/AAAAAAAAAJw/7M33d3DI1PM/s320/IMG_0907.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729635662125167922" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-size:85%;" >The boys, working on drilling holes for fence posts for the chicken run.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-size:85%;" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7aUVz-19SBE/T4PBSTlbipI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/ATvxFY0SlnU/s1600/IMG_1146.JPG" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); " onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7aUVz-19SBE/T4PBSTlbipI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/ATvxFY0SlnU/s320/IMG_1146.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729635671184476818" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 217px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">Apple-Jack!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-size:16px;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h2wpiFB7474/T4PCEvmGJAI/AAAAAAAAAKU/To9QfFXYS90/s320/IMG_1104.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729636537696920578" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 225px; " /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-size:85%;" >Grandparents and Grandkids!</span></div>Michelle Pierson and My Monster Motley Crewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14101537586852163939noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4875914819948657738.post-7279242976369851122011-07-06T14:49:00.004-05:002011-07-06T23:29:22.358-05:00Just Sit Right Back And You'll Hear A Tale...<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" border-collapse: collapse; font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; "><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pYwgnmyUhAc/ThUsJ1cqKII/AAAAAAAAAFI/ZhhheFzxZOs/s1600/P1040963.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">So join us here today my friends,</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family:Verdana;"><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">You're sure to get a smile,</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">From two lovely cast-aways,</span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Here on </span><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Mermaid Isle</span></b></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; ">Sometimes everything goes right. Everything. It stands out in your mind because it is foolish to believe that everything will go right all the time. It is equally foolish to believe something will go wrong all the time. This 4th of July holiday, everything (everything! **) did go right. We were sun-kissed. Marshmallows were roasted. Fishies were caught off the dock on twin Barbie fishing rods. Babies skinny-dipped. Ice cold beer sweated refreshing condensation cooling off hands and bellies. Turkeys were slow smoked on the barbecue. Cousins reunited. Aunts and Uncles doted. A gaggle of sisters cackled. Grumpy and grumpier shared some jello mold complete with finely grated carrots. Pre-schoolers practiced their drawing skills welcoming the masses with sidewalk chalk--many a flag were drawn in creative fashion. There were lawn games. Kayak rides. There were puppies. Boy, were there puppies! There were bonfires. Sparklers. There were two engineers. They put their educations to work blowing up a small portion of our nation to celebrate it's Independence. Boat rides. Tube rides. Omlettes in a bag. Bottomless glasses of refreshing black iced tea. Red, white & blue themed cuppycakes. A parade. Lots of Tootsie Rolls. It was a great time. And it came complete with something outside of the prototypical 4th of July holiday...our very own Mermaid Island. Mermaid Island, you ask? Yes. Mermaid Lagoon if you prefer.</div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; ">We purchased an inflatable raft--not super fancy, but the only one available at the sporting goods store in the small town of Spicer, Minnesota. We didn't know when we bought it that it was the perfect habitat for mermaids. I mean, we should have guessed, but we just didn't. The inflatable raft has 4 backrests, cup holders and the center has a mesh floor where lake water can come up and refresh tootsie-wootsies. And it was christened Mermaid Island by our very own mermaid fan club! Enjoyed by big kids and small kids alike, it was a fun destination upon Lake Andrew last weekend. We're looking forward to future adventures upon the Isle!</div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; "></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pYwgnmyUhAc/ThUsJ1cqKII/AAAAAAAAAFI/ZhhheFzxZOs/s400/P1040963.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626451856947030146" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">King Triton and his mermaid daughters, perhaps?</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-size:16px;"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-69PHUG8D-mE/ThUt0VoLzXI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/2eT9SYEZhZY/s400/P1040981.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626453686651440498" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Oops, King Triton turned Pirate and had to walk the floatie plank.</span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-size:16px;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-size:16px;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ddi9m_ea9w4/ThUvFIIbp-I/AAAAAAAAAFY/jtHNBct1aCw/s400/P1050002.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626455074598004706" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Zoe plotting with 'big' cousin Ellie on ways to trick the evil Beth!</span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-size:16px;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-size:16px;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tzcGARn2ok4/ThUwE1hfnjI/AAAAAAAAAFg/Bbz-hsxwyxk/s400/P1050004.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626456169114476082" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Ellie...co-conspirator. Epic yarns are spun. Little girls are in awe of big girls.</span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size:16px;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fEVK4rMenOc/ThUxADGwDHI/AAAAAAAAAFo/o-BmET_rpPU/s1600/P1050119.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fEVK4rMenOc/ThUxADGwDHI/AAAAAAAAAFo/o-BmET_rpPU/s400/P1050119.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626457186372684914" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">The baby mermaid loved the lagoon in the middle of Mermaid Island. Or maybe it's a cenote.</span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-size:16px;"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qC1yYRXCGT0/ThUyeamDSbI/AAAAAAAAAFw/XMxf53xTMTo/s400/P1050120.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626458807585687986" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">Happy Baby. Happy Mama.</span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--lgbMawVYhM/ThUzCSq_9aI/AAAAAAAAAF4/LUMaYYVojnw/s400/P1050129.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626459423934248354" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">Happy girls. Happy life. Happy 4th of July! Viva Mermaid Island!</span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">**Disclaimer: Everyone's idea of things going just right are very subjective. Addy did not think everything went right. In fact she puked in the porta-kennel placed in the quietest, darkest room in the house during the firework display. There were also mosquito bites. Quite a few of them actually. And Zoe found her first 'spider' attached to her skin--now she knows about woodticks. </span></span></span></span></span></div></span></span></span></span></span></div></span></span>Michelle Pierson and My Monster Motley Crewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14101537586852163939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4875914819948657738.post-25127731578484325222011-05-21T13:41:00.010-05:002011-05-21T15:05:42.107-05:00Sweet Dreams...<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i>'til Sunbeams Find You...</i></span></b></span></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vjgQGSjrHr4/TdgWoY0yoSI/AAAAAAAAADs/VeClJdiXe6Y/s1600/P1040062.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qcbc7EBGEgc/TdgV8FoelVI/AAAAAAAAADk/Ug1EuMjUr_g/s1600/P1040050.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qcbc7EBGEgc/TdgV8FoelVI/AAAAAAAAADk/Ug1EuMjUr_g/s400/P1040050.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609257457938240850" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vjgQGSjrHr4/TdgWoY0yoSI/AAAAAAAAADs/VeClJdiXe6Y/s400/P1040062.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609258219004404002" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "></span><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-phvbDVPeCUA/TdgVdCTVJCI/AAAAAAAAADc/wjRIPiPQ5MQ/s1600/P1040059.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-phvbDVPeCUA/TdgVdCTVJCI/AAAAAAAAADc/wjRIPiPQ5MQ/s400/P1040059.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609256924468290594" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EFpCvTKEPlo/TdgVMmHK57I/AAAAAAAAADU/jh14SMdfRFM/s1600/P1040058.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EFpCvTKEPlo/TdgVMmHK57I/AAAAAAAAADU/jh14SMdfRFM/s400/P1040058.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609256642023188402" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aDkSOOG54ks/TdgUxsREjnI/AAAAAAAAADM/OPg_uzlnbHo/s1600/P1040056.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aDkSOOG54ks/TdgUxsREjnI/AAAAAAAAADM/OPg_uzlnbHo/s400/P1040056.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609256179818860146" /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b>I'm a big, BIG fan of the warm, sunny, summery day. Today is grey. Cloudy. Sprinkle-y. And I am a BIG <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">BIG</span> fan of today, too. Chad is learning how to cook beer today, so with a house filled with girls, we did what girls do best... girled it all up!</b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b> We began by powdering our noses with twice-sifted flour. The flour sifter was a big hit. We added some (lots of) butter, baking powder, a great portion of heavy cream, a half cup of dried fruit rehydrated in fresh squeezed orange juice. Add in two pre-school handfuls of white chocolate chips, some egg, an eggwash and a sprinkle of turbinado sugar and we made the most DELICIOUS scones. </b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b>We then had some fun in the drizzle in the backyard harvesting 'young' dandelion leaves... which we have in plentiful supply. Our salad. Bring down Chad and Suzy's childhood kiddie table. Set kiddie table with teapot filled with pink lemonade. Add a vase of silk flowers. The vase is a Duluth Creamery half & half jar we found digging up the front yard. Use the fancy paper napkins (they have balloons on them in place of the plain white ones). Chop up carrots, edam cheese, mangos, wash some blueberries, toss the backyard salad and you have the makings of a princess-tea party luncheon. </b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b> Oh...not without the proper vestments, we don't. Raid the dress-up chest. Add tiaras, beads, boas, gloves, remove gloves, plastic high heels, three layers of lipgloss. Almost ready. We need fancy music. The perfect soundtrack is our 'Carla Bruni' station I've created on Pandora*. We sit down to our meal. Use the timer on the camera to snap a picture. Eat and drink with pinkies up. Take turns pouring the tea. Obsessively. Call one another 'dear'. And 'darling'. Dab at our mouths with the corner of our napkins. Discuss juiciness of blueberries. Ella Fitzgerald croons in the background..</b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><i>Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you </i></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><i></i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:medium;"><i> Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you </i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:medium;"><i></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:medium;"><i> But in your dreams whatever they be </i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:medium;"><i></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:medium;"><i> Dream a little dream of me. </i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:medium;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><b>Okay, brain. Try to absorb every nuance. To remember. To cherish. To dream a little dream of this. And to repeat it on the next girly grey day.</b></span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:medium;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><b><br /></b></span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:medium;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><b><br /></b></span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:medium;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><b>*Note* </b>Holy moly, I've hit a gold mine for days like today with the </span><span class="Apple-style-span">Carla Bruni</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "> station on Pandora. I highly recommend it... it's been a montage of awesomeness for a rainy day... Carla Bruni, Regina Spektor, Marissa Monte, Louis Armstrong, Etta Jones, Norah Jones, Feist, Ella Fitzgerald, Zee Avi, Ingrid Michaelson, Meiko...and on. And on. <b>PERFECT!</b></span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:medium;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><br /></span></i></span></div></div>Michelle Pierson and My Monster Motley Crewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14101537586852163939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4875914819948657738.post-23309830453026358072011-05-08T13:42:00.003-05:002011-05-08T14:39:33.917-05:00Mama Monster Mania<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><i>Honoring the Mother Within</i></b></span><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HMuFSvlxzM0/TcbvBFNWRmI/AAAAAAAAADE/2iAVG9pdqFA/s1600/P1030781.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HMuFSvlxzM0/TcbvBFNWRmI/AAAAAAAAADE/2iAVG9pdqFA/s400/P1030781.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604429588166231650" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The Ballerinas at Mother's Day Tea</div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y0n1LLR842M/TcbvAtaiRzI/AAAAAAAAAC8/FRlLZKdc6kA/s1600/P1030802.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y0n1LLR842M/TcbvAtaiRzI/AAAAAAAAAC8/FRlLZKdc6kA/s400/P1030802.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604429581779093298" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Mother's Day Loves from Zoe</div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yjDsfWWhgwk/TcbvAcfTeeI/AAAAAAAAAC0/oTr1SomhH9o/s1600/P1030801.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yjDsfWWhgwk/TcbvAcfTeeI/AAAAAAAAAC0/oTr1SomhH9o/s400/P1030801.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604429577235692002" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Mother's Day Loves from Mauren</div><div><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>Today is Mother's Day and really, what day isn't? Without our mothers, none of us would be here. Today I work on honoring and respecting the mother in me. This is my fifth Mother's Day. My first as a mother of three magical children, each an enigma, wonder and delight. Today I revel in the mundane, in the small joys, the repetitive tasks, the hugs, the homemade cards (pictured above). I relish that my five year olds cannot correctly pronounce the 'th' sound and so they say with sincerity and love 'Happy Mudders Day, Mama'. Today I let my cup runneth over with love and joy. Today I put my 'to-do' list on the back burner and enjoy simply being with those that have made a mother out of me. And at this very moment, I delight in that they are all napping, allowing me this time to extoll their virtues.</div><div><br /></div><div>Mother's Day at our house began on Friday afternoon with the preschool 'Mother's Day Tea' performance. The girls were both front and center, with their bff between them for a ballet dance and several songs. Their teacher, Ms. Jodi, introduced the festivities with a poem that I will include below that had every parent in the audience weeping before we laid eyes on our adorable children. I am so proud of how far my girls have come since their first Christmas program. </div><div><br /></div><div>The air of celebration continued last night with what I hope becomes a Mother's Day tradition . Chad and the big girls surprised me with an ice-cream cake from Dairy Queen. I convinced the crew that dinner should consist of the icecream cake and a huge pot of stove top cooked pop corn smothered in real butter--surprise, surprise, no dissenters(this is also a long-time Tillman family practice, so nice to reinvent that!). We all cuddled together on the couch, ate our completely unhealthy dinner and watched 'Mary Poppins'. The girls were enthralled and Chad and I both realized we'd forgotten most of the movie but the songs. What a delightful night. </div><div><br /></div><div>This morning I slept in until 7:30am, took a bubble bath and blow dried my hair in the breezes off of our superior lake. As we walked to the nearby baseball fields to try out the new kites Mauren and Zoe received as Easter presents from Grandma Reenie, the girls skipping ahead of us, Addy tugging Chad here and there to smell the smells--I patted the popo of the bundle strapped to my chest and took deep breaths of pure content. With two kites out, and intermittent breezes alternately sending our kites soaring and allowing them to float down and be caught by the girls the world seemed so right. So perfect. The girls and I spent another hour in the ball field as Chad walked Addy around the 'hood. My girls need no fancy toys to have fun. They have one another and boundless imaginations--the perfect recipe for magical merriment. Charlotte drifted off to sleep and for an entire hour I watched as the girls used sticks to dig up mounds of baseball base-run dirt and 'planted' gardens of dried tansy flowers. They picked bouquets for eachothers' birthdays. They invited new alter-egos 'Canda' and 'Salis' to join in their fun. The dugouts became their houses and they curled up in their benchwarmer beds giving no heed to the sunflower seed shells that got stuck in their hair. They ran the bases, but not in your typical baseball style. They made up a new game called 'Run. Freeze. Walk. Freeze. Dance. Freeze. Skip. Freeze. Ballet. Freeze. Jump. Freeze. Gallop. Freeze' and took turns being the 'caller' and the base rounding participant. And their garb today? New sundresses from Auntie Bekki atop non-matching pants and long-sleeved tees. </div><div><br /></div><div>Amid the play Charlotte awoke and enjoyed pulling at the grass and the tails of the kites. She got up on her hands and knees and took four forward crawling 'steps' and had a look of pride and joy on her face. She has since repeated that several times...soon there'll be no stopping her. </div><div><br /></div><div>Today I am content with who I am. I am content with the Mother within me. It is a work in progress and I grow and learn along with these beings I've helped to create and nurture. I'll leave you with the poem Ms. Jodi read:</div><div><br /></div><div><b>If I Had<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i> My Child To Raise All Over Again</i></span></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(24, 24, 24); line-height: 18px; font-family:georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"If I had my child to raise all over again,<br />I’d finger paint more, and point the finger less.<br />I’d do less correcting, and more connecting.<br />I’d take my eyes off my watch, and watch with my eyes.<br />I would care to know less, and know to care more.<br />I’d take more hikes and fly more kites.<br />I’d stop playing serious, and seriously play.<br />I’d run through more fields, and gaze at more stars.<br />I’d do more hugging, and less tugging.<br />I would be firm less often, and affirm much more.<br />I’d build self esteem first, and the house later.<br />I’d teach less about the love of power, and more about the power of love."<br /></span><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/quotes/639439.Diane_Loomans" class="authorName" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 0); text-decoration: none; font-family: georgia, serif; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Diane Loomans</span></a></span></div><div><br /></div><div>Happy Mother's Day to the mother inside of you, the mother at your side and the mothers next door! </div>Michelle Pierson and My Monster Motley Crewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14101537586852163939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4875914819948657738.post-67751851649361200472011-03-24T15:06:00.004-05:002011-03-24T15:31:44.678-05:00You Spin Me Right Round...[No Longer Such] Babies, Right Round...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zHg1rkkTsd8/TYupHXrWVSI/AAAAAAAAAB0/NO5c7VSS0ho/s1600/P1030076.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zHg1rkkTsd8/TYupHXrWVSI/AAAAAAAAAB0/NO5c7VSS0ho/s320/P1030076.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587745706763244834" /></a><br /><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><i>...Like A Record, Babies, Right Round, Round, Round... </i></span></b><div><br /></div><div>Or maybe you spin me right round like the way the earth rotates on it's axis. </div><div><br /></div><div>This week and next are dedicated to the theme of "Constellations, Space & Our Solar System" at Mauren and Zoe's preschool. And I love it! I am simply bursting, brimming, my cup is runnething all over the floor and I don't care... I am impressed! Mauren and Zoe came home from school yesterday just filled with so much knowledge. With a couple of geeks for parents, it'll likely be difficult for all our 'apples' to fall far from our nerd trees. We spend a lot of time talking about science concepts at home, but we've not gone into a lot of depth when it comes to the solar system. </div><div><br /></div><div><b><i>Some reportings on the day's learning:</i></b></div><div>-The girls know the creation myths about the constellations of Hydra, Ursa Minor and Leo. They also 'mapped' these constellations.</div><div>-Each girl was able to design and create a myth story about their own constellation. Mauren's is called 'The Magic Carpet' and Zoe's is called 'Ariel, The Mermaid' (they probably owe royalty rights to Disney for creating these constellations!). </div><div>-The girls now know that the Moon is a trickster. It seems like she makes her own light, but really she just reflects the sun's light back to us. </div><div>-The girls can act out the elliptical path the earth takes around the sun. They know the sun is our 'star' and that it is very hot. They know we are the 'third planet from the sun' and can recognize the names of the planets when I list them, but not recite them...yet. They also can act out the path the moon takes on it's path around the Earth. And they know that this path is called an 'orvit'...I tried to convince them it was called an orbit, but doubt remains...their teachers are pretty smart, I don't know mom, you might not be right about that. </div><div><br /></div><div>I've long enjoyed how filled with wonder, enchantment, imagination and ideas my kids are upon spending a day surrounded by other kids and nurturing teachers at their school--and today I am filled with wonder at the capacity to learn my kids each have. </div><div><br /></div><div>Our weekend homework project is to create a model solar system. This should be interesting and I think it will be best to divide and conquer so each girl doesn't overly influence one another's interpretation. I'll update our progress on our attempts at [mildly] intelligent designers next week. Is this project the gateway to dioramas and science fair projects? Already? Bring it on!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Michelle Pierson and My Monster Motley Crewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14101537586852163939noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4875914819948657738.post-3493448737893043012011-03-02T13:04:00.001-06:002011-03-02T13:33:03.611-06:00On Monster Creation...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><b><i>You Make Your Own Monsters...</i></b></span><div><br /></div><div>On the subject of monsters I have come to the conclusion that monsters are not merely born, but created. My wee-monster does the 'Monster Mash', her little arms and legs pumping as you hold her aloft and dance to the music, but she is not yet a real monster. Monsters, it seems, are truly a representation of nurture, not nature.</div><div><br /></div><div>I do, however, have two monsters that have been created--not in my own mold, but I think sculpted and formed due to both interior and exterior forces. My girls each have a twin sized bed that they share with a hoard of stuffed animals and dolls. The animals are afforded well over one-third of their sleepytime real estate. Twice per day, I spend time righting animals, organizing them, fluffing pillows and straightening bed coverings. It has always been important that certain animals and dolls be placed on the pillows of my monsters and the other ones could be stacked and stuffed to keep guard over them while they sleep. However, two weeks ago, my monsters proved my notion of 'the way things work' to be wrong. They proclaimed the day as 'Giving Day'. It was like a national holiday in our house. Each girl took turns giving their precious, important items to one-another. It was a major swap of personal possessions. I was apprehensive, I admit, at first. I thought they would want to trade back, that they would not remember whose teddy bear was now whose. But I was wrong. I'll ask as we clean up the chaos that is their world at the end of the day... now whose flamingo beanie baby is this? Mauren will say, "It's Zoe's now, because of Giving Day." </div><div><br /></div><div>Hopefully, the spirit of their 'Giving Day' will prevail when we begin a household purge of unnecessary personal belongings this month. </div><div><br /></div><div>In the meantime, if you've yet to create your own monster, you may do so here: </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://learnenglishkids.britishcouncil.org/en/make-your-own/make-your-monster">http://learnenglishkids.britishcouncil.org/en/make-your-own/make-your-monster</a></div>Michelle Pierson and My Monster Motley Crewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14101537586852163939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4875914819948657738.post-30844455015716631512011-02-17T15:15:00.004-06:002011-03-09T10:37:44.379-06:00Mr. Golden Sun? Actually, Mom....<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Mother Nature is a Funny Girl!</span></i></b></span><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday I worked up a sweat in the back yard, ice chipper in hand and a baby strapped to my chest. The sun was radiant, the steady trickle of melting snow was accompanied by the dripping sounds of water in the gutters and the thud, thud, crack of steel on ice. It was glorious! Just a week ago we experienced some of the chilliest weather of the season, and beginning tonight we will go back to a more wintry winter. But, boy, was yesterday a nice treat. Vitamin D galore! The girls even ate their sack lunches outside at pre-school yesterday.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>And although today is grey and soggy (Mauren's interpretation of 'foggy'), I'll remind myself in the long days of winter that are sure to follow that the delights of springtime are AWESOME and worth the wait. And even if the weather isn't so great outside, I have this picture above the couch in my livingroom created by Maurnie that makes me smile each time I glance at it. Can you tell what it is?</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eXHhd91Z-eg/TV2SEa5YoeI/AAAAAAAAABs/JJp9Bb90DV8/s320/P1020655.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574772518391685602" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>If you guessed a Rainbow and a Sun... you'd be half right. The multi-colored arc is, indeed, a rainbow. But the orange circle with many appendages is a scary bug walking on said rainbow! Have a great day--sunny or soggy!</div>Michelle Pierson and My Monster Motley Crewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14101537586852163939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4875914819948657738.post-53429878743073649802011-02-01T13:27:00.002-06:002011-02-02T08:43:42.084-06:00Twinkle, Twinkle Little Stars...<div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star... How Zoe Wonders What You Are</span></b></div><div><br /></div><div><i>"Mom, what is a star?," Zoe asks.</i></div><div><i>"What do you think a star is?," I sidestep.</i></div><div><i>"I think it is something that glows in the sky...but how does it stay up there? Why don't they fall?," she returns.</i></div><div><i>"What does your brain tell you about that?," I reply.</i></div><div><i>"I think they have gravity."</i></div><div><i>"I think you're right."</i></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xYDF8ETii2g/TUhfDGSG_2I/AAAAAAAAABE/YXv6tym3IA4/s1600/P1020541.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 165px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xYDF8ETii2g/TUhfDGSG_2I/AAAAAAAAABE/YXv6tym3IA4/s320/P1020541.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568805446074433378" /></a><div>So, what is a star? By definition, a star is a "massive, luminous ball of plasma held together by gravity." Wow...how does a being with only four and a half years under her skinny little belt know so much? </div><div><br /></div><div>Today I ponder those sparkly orbs in the night sky. The definition of a star aside, a star is an evolving mystery in the life of a child. One of the first lullabies a little one will hear, one even dads feel comfortable singing, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star is a thing of dozy, calm, cuddling sounds. As baby grows, little fingers reach as high as they can above their little ears, opening and closing, stretching and clenching as she acts out the song even before she can sing along. Then comes the awareness that those little white twinkle lights, haphazardly hung in the expanse above the house is what a star is. Next comes the bedtime routine of reading stories and peeking out the window for glimpses of the Evening Star. 'Star Light, Star Bright...the first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, Have this wish I Wish tonight.' Summertime meteor showers arrive and stars are something to look for from the plaid blanket laid out in the back yard--only these ones don't stay still (oh and they aren't really stars, but you know...) but the little girls just wriggle and giggle and then get bit by mosquitos so there is no wishing upon a falling star tonight. A star becomes a landmark, a spot on a map on the way to follow Tinkerbell to Never Never Land...go past the second star to the right and go straight on 'til morning. A star is magic. A star inspires wonder...and then you're 4 and 1/2. And a star is a ball of plasma, held together and held in it's location by gravity. Thankfully, at this magical age, science and magic seem to co-exist pretty well. And members of all ages and stages in this household, lift our fingers up high over our heads, stretching them, clenching them, as our mismatched voices join together to sing to our newest family member....like a diamond in the sky...</div>Michelle Pierson and My Monster Motley Crewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14101537586852163939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4875914819948657738.post-63979869135183532352011-01-31T09:51:00.001-06:002011-01-31T09:51:47.923-06:00Shiny Happy Baby Monsters...Holding Hands<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><b><i>SHHhhhhh.....Listen.....</i></b></span></div><div><br /></div><i>Do da loo do do, do do do do do... (can you hear it?)</i><div><i>Do da loo do do, do do do do...</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>Shiny Happy [Baby Monsters] Holding Hands</i></div><div><i>Shiny Happy [Baby Monsters] Laughing....</i></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">And this is my life. </span>And I love it. Life spins like the record on the juke box-- (I can even remember juke boxes having records...of course, they were in 1950's themed restaurants, but still...). Today I embrace all the baby monsters in my life and I've let them out of the box and into the world wide blogosphere. Do you think the blogosphere is really spherical, or more like a giant spaghetti monster in the sky? Hmm...</div><div><br /></div><div>Oh, I was planning to get to a point! Welcome to my blog! You have stumbled upon an environment created to explore, react, relate and respond to the experience of sharing my home and the path of my life with a horde of monsters. Some of said monsters are the alter-egos of my children. Some are imaginary and live by the billions behind my couch(minus the 3 that were slain last night with cardboard swords). Some of these are monsters that lurk in the dark corners of my mind. Some are furry, some are stinky--and some wear princess dresses, plastic pearls and tiaras.</div><div><br /></div><div>More tall tales, fairy tales and life experiences of the Pierson household will follow. But for now, enjoy a little Michael Stipe and his experience with monsters...</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZXVvvRBBUn8">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZXVvvRBBUn8</a></div><div><br /></div>Michelle Pierson and My Monster Motley Crewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14101537586852163939noreply@blogger.com0